


Long Enough to Edify

by idyll



Series: The Hollow [13]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Canon, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-25
Updated: 2007-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyll/pseuds/idyll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future!Fic set after things are settled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Enough to Edify

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poisontaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/gifts).



When Gunn walks into _Jack's_ Lindsey is behind the bar, which is a rare thing anymore seeing as how he's the manager of the place now and is generally back in the office, or holed up in one of the booths on the side of the room.

Lindsey looks up from rinsing a glass and watches Gunn make his way through the thin crowd. Gunn keeps his stride loose and relaxed, trying his best to telegraph _all in one piece, no damage taken_, but even still Lindsey's gaze travels a slow path from his feet to the top of his head, studying and searching.

Time was it would have been Gunn doing the visual examination for damage, but Lindsey got off the streets a while ago and between the two of them Gunn is the one most likely to end the night busted up and bleeding.

But tonight Gunn's fine and whole and even though there's nothing obvious to signal Lindsey's relief, Gunn can read it in the ease with which the other man focuses on his task again, moving to a customer and taking an order.

"Get a demotion when I wasn't looking?" Gunn asks when he gets to the bar.

Lindsey makes a face and flips him off. "Nah. Bartender called in sick and her back up can't get here for another half hour. Want something?"

"Beer. Whatever's on draft."

"Take a table. I'll order us up some food," Lindsey says as he pours the beer and slides the glass over.

Gunn goes to one of the tables in the back of the seating area and it's his turn to watch, now. Lindsey tends bar more than competently, moving easily between all ten people seated there and taking orders from folks at the tables, too. He's got a grin and a wink for almost everyone and Gunn doesn't much mind the casual flirting. That and Lindsey's brains got him moved up the chain from barback, to bartender, to manager of this neighborhood bar. It's a nice gig, one that Lindsey likes and is damn good at, and it'd take a meaner man than Gunn to begrudge Lindsey some flirting that gets him hefty tips.

Fifteen minutes later Lindsey catches his eye deliberately, gaze full of something that's sort of playful but mostly dark. Gunn's breath hitches in his chest and he's not surprised when Lindsey leans over the bar, his flirtation with a rough looking guy getting a little more serious. Sometimes Lindsey does this, takes it up a notch when Gunn's watching, and Gunn knows better than to think it's with any real intent on Lindsey's part. No, the only reason for it is to get Gunn riled up, make him glitter-eyed and hard-handed.

It works and they both get off on the results every damn time.

Lindsey glances up again, seemingly casual, and he freezes when he looks at Gunn, who lifts one corner of his mouth in a mockery of a smile. The guy Lindsey's flirting with tugs his arm to get his attention and Lindsey flinches from the touch before smoothly stepping back and continuing the flirtation.

One of these days this little game is going to take a bad turn, Gunn knows. Lindsey's target will get a little pissed off and maybe start some shit when it becomes obvious that Lindsey's just gravitating to Gunn, even in the middle of all the flirting. Gunn's not all that worried because Lindsey's filled out a lot since they first met, and he spends a few days a week at a gym, and he's calmed down enough that Gunn knows he could take on most guys and win, even though he's a short shit. Besides, no way in Hell will Gunn just sit by and let someone get in Lindsey's face, try to touch him or take him. Just...no.

Tonight's not the night for trouble, though. The guy Lindsey's flirting with follows his gaze, sees Gunn, and grins wryly, knowingly. Smart guy, that one, and Gunn always gets the feeling that Lindsey is careful to pick them like that. Boy's a lot more cautious than he used to be.

When the relief bartender comes in, Gunn waits long enough for Lindsey to close out his drawer before getting up and moving to the bar itself and lifting the counter. "Let's go," he says sharply, drawing Lindsey's attention away from the guy on the other end. "Now."

Lindsey turns around, tension in his limbs, eyes soft and reflective, and when he walks towards Gunn he cants his hips obscenely.

"Gotta put up the drawer," Lindsey murmurs when he's standing right in front of Gunn.

Gunn reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of his neck, giving it a tight squeeze and a controlled shake. "I'll be coming with you," Gunn says.

Lindsey shudders and lowers his eyes. "Aw, shit."

"Move."

In the back office Gunn leans against the closed and locked door and watches Lindsey put his cash drawer in the safe, anticipation building in his veins like a cold fire and making his hands clench. Nothing between them is the same as it used to be, except all the things that are. There's still the livewire tension that arcs between them, still the glitter-shards that fly back and forth, but there's less desperation, less of a need to pushpushpush, less uncertainty overall.

"Clothes off, Lindsey."

Lindsey strips with tranquil grace, his body getting looser and looser until he's naked and swaying on his feet. Gunn raises a hand and motions for Lindsey to turn in a circle, which he does, and his body is littered with marks: Gunn's hand and finger prints pressed into bruises in several places, jagged bite marks that match Gunn's teeth, stripes from Gunn's belt, abrasions from the restraints that Gunn attaches and that Lindsey likes to pull at, and the angry red of Lindsey's hard dick, which hasn't had any relief for two days.

Lindsey's skin is a testament to this thing between them that used to be terrifying and confusing but which is now comforting and reassuring and singularly _them_, and it's why Gunn doesn't worry or care about any flirtations. Gunn owns Lindsey, not only because of his desire to do so, but because of _Lindsey's_ desire that he do so.

Nothing can touch this, touch them, not unless they let it, which they don't.

They've done a lot since that first night, done things that Gunn never even had words for until Lindsey, and this office has seen a lot of that action. The last time they were here, Gunn put on a cock ring and fucked Lindsey so long that he lost track of time and had to re-lube half a dozen times. He practically had to carry Lindsey home that night, even though he himself wasn't all too steady on his feet.

Lindsey's still swaying, hands loose at his sides, He's watching Gunn, waiting, patient and accepting in this limbo that Gunn's created for him, and Gunn smiles softly, sees Lindsey lean towards him like he can't help himself (which he can't, not when he's like this).

"Gunn," Lindsey whispers.

Gunn says, quietly but implacably, "Come."

Almost before Lindsey's eyes finish going wide in surprise, his dick starts shooting, come spilling out in pulses that take Lindsey to his knees and make him curl forward and cry out, until finally it's done and he's a shaking mess.

When Gunn moves to stand over him, Lindsey's head lifts, offering his mouth, but Gunn shakes his head and reaches down to unzip and take his dick out. He runs one hand through Lindsey's hair and jerks himself off with the other, and the look in Lindsey's eyes--broken open and exposed for Gunn and Gunn alone--gets him off more than his hand. He comes on Lindsey's face, his fingers rubbing it in almost as soon as it lands, and Lindsey grabs his hips and holds him up when he stumbles, forehead pressing against Gunn's abdomen.

When Gunn's legs steady, Lindsey tucks him away and zips him up, then leans back on his heels. "Pretty boy," Gunn murmurs, fingers tracing across his features, pausing to rub in drops of come, wiping some from his eyelashes. "All mine."

Lindsey hums an agreement and seems content to kneel there and let Gunn touch his face, which Gunn does for a few minutes before he realizes he's starving. "Think you promised me food."

"You dragged me back to your cave before it was done, caveman," Lindsey drawls.

"Then it should be ready by now." Gunn tugs on his hair. "Get up and dressed. We'll eat and head home." Lindsey gets to his feet and stretches luxuriously, like some wild thing that's been sated, and when he's dressed Gunn pulls him in and gives him a kiss that's like the threat of a good hard fuck. "I don't have to go in tomorrow," he says and has to hold Lindsey up when his knees almost give out.

"Aw, hell."

"Yeah," Gunn says with a grin and smacks him on the ass. "Let's go."

.End


End file.
